


Reverie

by fly_sekkiski



Series: In the End it Was Probably De Groot's Fault [3]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6425491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fly_sekkiski/pseuds/fly_sekkiski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy spends a free moment daydreaming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reverie

**Author's Note:**

> Like many others, these two became fun shippables for me after episode 8 of the second season. This despite the fact (or perhaps because) the show subsequently shuttled Abigail off to languish in the Savannah swamps.

The autumn rains had forced them to anchor in the shelter of an inlet. A few men remained topside on watch but most were below, drinking, gaming, playing music and otherwise cooling their heels in a pleasant manner. A few, Billy among them, took the opportunity for some undisturbed shut-eye.

Billy shifted his weight slightly, crossed one arm behind him and resettled his head. He heard a few boards creak and the rustling of clothes nearby was audible, but Billy kept his eyes shut and feigned slumber. Moments such as these didn’t come along frequently and he was determined to make the most of his nap. He kept himself just adrift of real sleep, however, to allow a certain pleasant image float into his mind.

Billy had spent few minutes in the company of Lord Ashe’s daughter but they had proved indelible. Even now, months later, he easily recalled the moment he’d caught her dark liquid eyes fixed on him before she’d bashfully turned them away.

It was the first time he’d been taken with someone of the female gender. Women, prostitutes in particular, confounded Billy. He was embarrassed by their effusive admiration of his physique and irked by assumptions that it had been fashioned for their pleasure rather than for his labour. Worse, it was too often the case that the pleasure women took _from_ him seemed to have little to do _with_ him, as though his physical body was unconnected with his person – and the latter far less interesting than the former to boot. Billy was assured around men but, over time, had found it easier to simply ignore the existence of women. Ignoring Lord Ashe’s daughter that evening, however, had been anything but easy. Billy had tried his manful best to keep his eyes trained properly on his Captain’s countenance but the unfamiliar charm of a female gaze neither artfully bold nor coyly shy had captivated him. His failure to keep to his usual practice had proven fatal: one tiny smile, an encouraging dip of a chin, a blink of gratitude and the towering Billy Bones, fearsome pirate, dauntless fighter, formidable bosun, and quartermaster to the dread Captain Flint found himself conquered in the most delicious manner imaginable.

Reflection deepened into reverie. She was close to him now: no heavy wooden table separated them. Billy twined her lustrous dark hair between his fingers, revelling in a silkiness to which he was unaccustomed. In one smooth motion he pushed her long curls back over her shoulders so that he could take in her décolletage unhindered. The action brought a gorgeous coral flush to her pale skin. She was conscious of his eyes on her and of his fingers hovering nearby and she lowered her gaze once more. She seemed to sway slightly and her lashes feathered her cheeks uncertainly. Gently, Billy teased her about the pert little dimple that graced the centre of her chin and, once he saw her smile, lightly traced its cleft with a fingertip. Then, with that same finger, he raised her face to his. Everything about Abigail Ashe was adorable to Billy, even the small gap between her two front teeth, just discernible through her barely parted lips. He ached to test that gap with his tongue…

‘Billy.’

Billy awoke with a jolt to the sight of Flint looming over him. He struggled upright – or as upright as he could get given the low ceiling above his hammock.

‘Captain!’

Flint seemed amused by something but spoke with his customary crispness. ‘Crow’s nest has spotted some pines inshore. I want you to take some men and find one or two that can be used to replace the topgallant.’

Billy was still groggy and his mind elsewhere. He gave his head a sharp shake to clear the fog. ‘You want me to go get some pines,’ he repeated. ‘As in chop down a couple of trees and haul them back to the ship?’ Flint met his incredulous look with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. It was the expression that, as Billy knew all too well, brooked no dissent. ‘And then,’ Billy continued, ‘erect a new topgallant mast.’ He paused. ‘Right.’

Flint’s eyes flicked down from his quartermaster’s sceptical expression. ‘I imagine you would have little difficulty felling trees, Billy.’ A grin threatened but didn’t materialize. ‘Evidently you can raise a mast.’

With one last amused twist of his lips Flint turned and strode away. Billy tipped himself out of his hammock and made a necessary adjustment to his clothing. Then, with a regretful sigh for his interrupted moment of pleasurable repose, Billy headed topside to verify that there wasn’t a lumberjack or two amongst the crew.


End file.
